


Choosing You is Easy

by LoonyLoopyLisa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, choosing who you love, minor past clint/phil, minor past steve/peggy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLoopyLisa/pseuds/LoonyLoopyLisa
Summary: Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, and Bucky Barnes have all lost their soulmates.  They learn to live without their partners, move on, and, with a little help from their friends, fall in love again.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 31
Kudos: 167
Collections: Charity Hawktion 2019





	Choosing You is Easy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hawksonfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/gifts).



> For the wonderful [hawksonfire](https://hawksonfire.tumblr.com/), who asked for a soulmate AU in which Clint, Bucky, and Steve are not soulmates but chose each other anyway. I really hope you like it.
> 
> Beta read by the lovely [Nny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nny/pseuds/Nny), also as part of the Charity Hawktion. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Steve Rogers sat beside the hospital bed containing his soulmate, staring at the soulmark on his arm as the words slowly faded. He breathed with her, hoping that somehow it would prolong the last few minutes of her life. The soulmark faded completely as she let out her last breath.

The dark lines of his soulmark had been Steve’s only anchor when he had woken up in this new century where everything was so different. Knowing that Peggy was alive, even if she had mourned him and moved on, had been the only thing that kept him sane some days. And now that anchor was gone.

Steve stood suddenly, overwhelmed at the grief and unwilling to break down in this public place. He raced down the stairs and to his motorbike, driving back to base without really seeing where he was going. 

He was still in the gym destroying punching bags when Fury approached, asking about the Tesseract.

***

Clint Barton had a pounding headache, cuts from smashing through a window, and was pretty sure he was one big bruise, head to toe from crashing through that window, grateful his grappling arrow had worked and he had escaped the Chitauri. He was also starving. So it wasn’t exactly surprising that he didn’t notice his soulmark was gone for over 24 hours. After eating shawarma with the rest of the Avengers, a long and complicated debrief, and sleeping 16 hours straight, he was supposed to meet with the first in a long series of psychologists and medical professionals. Then he noticed the missing mark on his leg. When Natasha came to find him 30 minutes later he was sitting against the wall, staring at the blank skin with tears slowly running down his cheeks.

***

The Winter Soldier had been born with a soulmark. He was put into cryofreeze one day with a soulmark and came out without it. It never occurred to him to wonder why he didn’t have a mark. Soulmates were for people and he was just a weapon.

***

Steve wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the stares and whispers that followed him through SHIELD headquarters. It was worse in the cafeteria where agents didn’t have places to be and people to report to, but it still beat trying to find somewhere to live in the city.

Steve didn’t even glance up as an agent sat in front of him, though he did prepare himself for the barrage of questions. They were always the same: what had the ice been like; how did it feel to wake up to his soulmate married to someone else; what did he miss most about the past?

“How far away could Bucky Barnes hit a target?”

Steve’s head jerked up. Hawkeye was sitting across the table from him, an unreasonable amount of pizza on his tray. He had dark circles under his eyes, his blond hair was a mess, and he had several healing cuts visible on his arms.

“What?”

“How far could he hit a target? I need an exact record. For reasons.”

Steve kept staring but Hawkeye, Barton, didn’t seem to notice. He was shovelling food into his mouth like it might disappear. “Why?”

“Because Tasha says breaking the record doesn’t count because of the differences in technology. Which reminds me, what kind of gun did he use while making the record? I’ll need to use that too.”

Romanov sat down while Barton was talking, her plate also holding an improbable amount of food, though she started eating at a much more sedate pace. Steve turned his confused gaze on her, hoping for more information. “What?” he repeated.

She looked at him with amusement on her face. “Coulson once told Clint that Barnes was the greatest sniper of all time. Clint aims to prove himself against a dead man.”

That...was slightly more helpful, he guessed, though the sudden reminder that Bucky was gone sent a sharp pain through his chest. “Isn’t there an official record somewhere?”

That got Barton’s attention. “Never let a government agency know how good you are! They can’t be trusted with that information. Everyone knows you should play down your skills whenever the government is involved.”

Steve glanced helplessly at Romanov again, but she was nodding sagely, as though everything Barton was saying made sense. “Don’t you both _work_ for a government agency?”

“Yes,” Romanoff answered, “but they certainly don’t know everything they think they do.”

Which kind of made sense, in an awful way.

“How far?” Barton prompted.

“He could hit a target at 1200 yards.”

Barton nodded thoughtfully. “I can totally do that. Nat, where can I get a World War 2 gun?”

“How should I know?”

“You can get your hands on anything! Remember that time in Barcelona?”

They continued to argue while Steve slowly relaxed, eating his lunch. He had expected more questions, but they seemed happy to have their own argument, both trying to pull him in on their side. It almost reminded him of arguments between the Commandos; it was nice, sitting with them.

***

Steve was in the gym the next time Barton found him.

“Want to spar?”

Steve looked at Barton incredulously. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

Barton deflated slightly before nodding. He looked restless and the dark circles were still under his eyes. “Makes sense, everyone else is afraid of me too.”

“What?”

“I get it. I’d be scared to fight me too. The shrinks are still checking for Loki and no one knows if his control is going to come back. It’s just, Nat’s not here and I can’t sleep. I thought you might be a good choice, since you’re stronger than everyone else.”

“I’m not worried about Loki. What if I hurt you?”

Barton’s eyes lit up. “You’d have to land a hit in order to hurt me. And that’s a lot harder than you’d think.”

There was no way Steve could back away from a challenge like that, even if he still had reservations. “You’re on.”

Barton’s grin was blinding. Steve was surprised by how beautiful he looked lit up that that.

They made their way into the ring, which was unfortunately in the center of the gym. Barton stretched while Steve removed the tape from his hands. He could feel everyone’s eyes on them, could hear whispers reaching him under the noise of feet pounding on treadmills. It seemed Barton noticed the attention too, because he glanced around before smirking at Steve. “Don’t worry, they’re all staring at me. I’m way more interesting than you around here.”

Steve laughed before meeting Barton in the center of the ring. He sent a punch toward Barton, nowhere near his top strength or speed. Barton laughed as he blocked it. “Show me what you’ve really got, old man.”

Steve continued trying to hit Barton who jumped, flipped, and twisted out of the way. It was almost impossible to land a hit on him and Steve soon forgot to pull his punches. And then Steve realized Barton had been holding back too. The next punch Steve sent Barton’s way missed as he rolled to one side, his shirt riding up to reveal a bruise on one side, his shirt riding up to reveal a bruise on his ribs that didn’t seem to hold him back at all. Steve felt a kick to the back of his knee and the breath rushed out of him as he hit the floor of the ring.

They continued to spar, both pulling out every dirty trick they knew until they were both breathing heavily and dripping sweat. Barton called for a break and Steve was startled by the sound of someone clapping. He looked around and saw a crowd of agents watching them with Romanov and Stark standing front and center, clapping.

Barton seemed to notice all the staring agents too but he grinned wide, apparently pleased with the attention. He bowed deeply. “Thank you, thank you, I am the Amazing Hawkeye and I’ll be here all week!” he declared before jumping out of the ring. He glanced back at Steve. “Coming?”

Steve hesitated. He wasn’t used to being around people anymore. But Barton had been friendly and he seemed genuine in wanting to spend time together. He treated Steve like a person, like Steve Rogers instead of Captain America, something that hadn’t happened since the war, and rarely even then. It was a good feeling.

Steve followed him.

***

Stark and Romonov were waiting outside the locker room after Steve and Barton finished showering. They seemed content to chat together about people Steve didn’t know as Barton led the way to lunch. Steve thought about separating from the group, but — he _was_ hungry. Sparring with Barton had worked up his appetite.

They were seated and eating — or in Stark’s case drinking some weird green drink while messing with a tablet — when Steve noticed all the eyes on them again. He glanced around and felt his shoulders hunch as he realized every agent in the room was watching them with no pretense at subtlety.

Stark followed his gaze. “Is it always like this?”

“What?” Barton mumbled with his mouth full of food. Steve felt movement under the table right before Barton flinched. He swallowed before speaking again. “Ow, Nat. Is what like this?”

“The stares,” Stark explained. “I thought it was because of me at first, but people don’t normally watch me sit still for long.”

“It’s fine,” Steve started before feeling a sharp pain in his shin. “Ow!”

Barton nodded sympathetically and patted his back. “Nat doesn’t like it when people lie. Or use bad manners.” 

Steve looked at Stark, “People stare, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. They don’t come up to me as much now.”

“We think we have a solution to that,” Stark announced.

Steve was instantly on guard. Stark might have saved the world but he was still Stark. Barton on the other hand, immediately said, “I’m in.”

Steve was surprised by his quick agreement. “You don’t even want to know the idea?”

“If Natasha approves then I’m sure it’s fine. It’s not like he’s going to suggest we come live with him or anything, right?”

There was an awkward silence.

Barton laughed incredulously, “you want us to live with you? Like some kind of frat house for fucked up people?”

Stark still hadn’t looked up from his phone. “Think of it more as a bunch of superheroes based in one conveinent location,” he replied, trying to sound unbothered. Steve could see the way his eyes were slightly pinched at the corners and the barely there downturn of his mouth.

Barton stood, “I’m nobody's hero.”

“Clint,” Romonov spoke for the first time.

Barton seemed to deflate, dropping back into his seat. “There’s no way the WSC is going to let me leave Fury’s watch.”

“We think we have a way around that,” Stark said. Barton looked at him curiously so Stark nodded to Natasha. “Her.”

Barton rolled his eyes, “The WSC don’t trust her any more than they trust me. Thanks for trying to help but there is no way this is going to work.” He turned to Steve, “I suggest you take him up on the offer, though. It’s got to be better than being here.”

He was probably right, but Steve wasn’t sure it was a good idea. He looked Stark in the eye, “Thanks for the offer, but I doubt the WSC are going to want me to leave either.”

Stark looked to the ceiling, exasperated, but was interrupted by the arrival of Maria Hill. “Boss says you’re good to go, he’s got the WSC distracted. Window closes in 5 minutes.”

Romanov nodded and stood, leaving the remains of her food at the table and announcing, “Let’s go.”

Barton stayed seated.

“Clint.” Her voice was softer than Steve had ever heard it. “Come with us. Come home.”

His smile was bitter. “Home’s gone, Nat.”

“Then come with me. We’ll make a new home.” Barton hesitated. “Please,” Romanov added.

Barton nodded and stood. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said as he took her hand and followed her out the door.

Stark stood too as Steve started gathering the plates left on the table. “You coming?” he asked. Steve threw away the trash and met him at the door, not at all sure he was ready for this, but with no idea of what else to do.

***

Steve wasn’t sure what he expected from living with Stark, but it certainly wasn’t an apartment this big. His personal apartment had three bedrooms, each the size of the entire apartment he had shared with Bucky before the war. The bathroom had a tub big enough for even him to lay down in as well as a shower that could easily fit three people. What was he even going to do with this much space? He had been left to settle in but everything he owned fit in a duffle bag, so after putting some clothes into the dresser and setting his sketchbook on the nightstand he was at a loss for something to do.

Maybe Barton needed help unpacking. Steve felt unaccountably nervous as he crossed the hall to Barton’s apartment, even as he found it oddly reassuring to be so close. Steve knocked, nerves almost getting the better of him as he waited for what seemed like forever until the door opened.

Barton’s smile eased some of Steve’s nerves. “What’s up, Cap?” he asked.

“Did you want some help unpacking?”

“Unpacking?” Barton repeated, like the concept was unfamiliar. He looked Steve over and then opened the door wider, gesturing Steve inside. The layout inside reflected Steve’s. There were two duffel bags on the floor inside the door and a bow with a quiver of arrows laid out on the kitchen counter next to a pot of freshly brewed coffee. It didn’t look like Barton had touched anything else.

“Have you seen this TV? It’s ridiculous. And JARVIS says I can watch anything. Want to binge Dog Cops with me?”

Stark had told him about JARVIS but Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the rest of Barton’s question meant. It had to be better than sitting alone in his apartment though. He shrugged and watched as Barton pulled out two mugs.

“Do you take anything in your coffee?” Barton asked as he poured coffee into the cups.

“Uh, I guess not?”

Barton glanced up, “You guess not?”

“I only really drank it during the war, and we didn’t really have stuff to put in it.”

Steve was prepared for shock or pity, but all Barton did was nod. “I get that. In the circus we couldn’t afford stuff like sugar so I had to drink it black.” He handed a mug to Steve. “If you want to experiment with your coffee I’m sure Stark can get all sorts of fancy cream for you.”

Barton jumped over the back of the couch, landing on his back and somehow not spilling a drop of coffee. Steve walked around the couch and gingerly sat on the other edge. The couch was long enough that Barton’s toes almost reached Steve’s thigh.

“J-Man,” Barton began, pushing himself up the couch so his head was laying on the armrest instead and taking a drink of his coffee, “start some Dog Cops.”

The television — Steve would never get over how big they were now — started playing a bright and catchy theme, animated dogs running across the screen. The show was--well, it was something. Steve didn’t really understand the appeal but Barton was completely engrossed. Somehow several episodes passed and Steve found himself interested against his will. He hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed until he heard his stomach rumble.

Barton heard it too and turned from where he’d ended up laying upside down on the couch with his head hanging off the seat and his feet over the back. “I checked the cabinets earlier but everything is healthy. I know a great pizza place instead.”

“Pizza sounds good, I guess.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

Steve followed Barton out of the apartment, pausing to grab his wallet and a ballcap. Barton huffed a laugh when he saw the hat but didn’t say anything.

They walked a few blocks to the subway station, Barton easily navigating crowds until he reached the train he was looking for, hopping on just before the doors closed. The car was packed but Steve kept his face down and he noticed Barton positioning himself so Steve’s face was blocked from view. They miraculously made it off the subway without being recognized. Barton led the way down a few blocks until he made a sharp turn into a hole in the wall pizza place. Steve would have missed it entirely if not for Barton.

The place was run down, but clean. There were small tears in the booth seats and the table tops were faded from the sun shining in the window but Barton went straight for the counter, telling the man working, “Double my usual, Sal. And add some garlic bread.” He handed over a card before leading the way to a booth in the corner where they could both see the exits without trouble.

Barton talked about Dog Cops until Sal came over with their pizzas and two beers. Barton thanked him and gestured toward the pizzas. “Help yourself, man. I will totally eat all of this if you let me.”

The pizza was delicious and Steve felt pleasantly full as they walked back to the tower, Clint stopping to pet every dog he saw on the way and making pleasant small talk with their owners. By the time they got back it was dark and Steve was ready for bed. 

He told Clint goodbye and walked into his apartment, a smile on his face. Steve had started this morning alone and unhappy but for the first time since waking up from the ice he felt like he could actually fit in, and it was thanks to Clint.

***

Over the next few weeks Steve settled into life at the tower. There were great views for drawing, JARVIS was an unending source of information, and there was always someone around to talk to or sit with.

Steve woke up one night in a cold sweat, images of Bucky falling fading as he opened his eyes. The nightmares came often but Steve was afraid to tell anyone, worried they would judge him for dreaming about his best friend when he had lost his soulmate so recently.

Steve knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep so he got out of bed. Normally he could draw or watch a movie until a reasonable time but he was restless and knew he wouldn’t be able to sit still. He went to the gym, planning to run the energy out.

On his way to the gym, however, he came across Clint - they’d graduated to first names after their first trip for pizza. Clint was slumped over the island in the communal kitchen, full cup of coffee in hand. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he seemed oblivious to Steve's entrance. That was unlike him.

Steve debated leaving Clint alone and going to the gym anyway, but Clint was always willing to talk when Steve needed a distraction. Maybe Clint needed a distraction too- if nothing else they could spar together.

Steve approached Clint and put one hand on his shoulder. Faster than he would have thought possible Clint had him on the ground, a knife held at his throat. It took a few seconds for Clint to process what had happened but when he did he sat back on Steve’s chest and put the knife back in his pants.

“Dude, don’t sneak up on me,” he said. “I could have killed you.”

He slowly climbed off Steve and held his hand out, effortlessly pulling Steve to his feet. It was hard to read Clint’s expression in the dark room but he seemed sad. 

“Sorry, I was just going to see if you wanted to talk.”

Clint squinted at Steve as he talked before pulling something small from his pocket. He put them in his ears and Steve recognized them as hearing aids. “Didn’t have my ears in, what?” he asked.

“I was going to see if you wanted to talk.”

Clint’s face screwed up and he shook his head, almost violently.

“Want to spar instead?” Steve offered.

Clint seemed to consider that. “Yeah, okay. You’re on.”

They didn’t talk as they made their way down to the gym. The silence continued as they stretched. When they were both ready Clint nodded before throwing a punch. Steve was surprised at the force and speed behind it. The fight was brutal, Clint had apparently been holding back all the times they had fought before. He moved with a deadly grace, quick and silent, throwing punches and dodging blows. Where Clint normally flipped and smirked he was focused, with no extra movements.

After what seemed like forever Steve tapped out. Clint was covered in sweat and breathing hard enough that Steve was almost worried for his health. Clint rolled off of where he had been attempting to pin Steve to the mat, laying still on the mat.

Steve stayed where he was, panting on the mat. Finally Clint spoke, “We had separate missions a lot, you know? And I always managed to sleep then. But I can’t sleep without him here now.”

Steve made a questioning noise and Clint let out a breath. “Didn’t you know?” When Steve shook his head Clint continued. “Phil Coulson was my soulmate. And he’s dead because of me.” Steve lifted his head off the mat and opened his mouth to say...something, but Clint beat him to it. “I know, I know, the shrinks keep telling me it’s Loki’s fault, but it was my plan, you know?”

And the thing was, Steve did understand, at least a little. “It was my plan to put the plane in the ice, even though I knew I wouldn’t survive and it would leave Peggy alone. Sure, it saved the world, but it destroyed my soulmate’s. And I know, she eventually moved on and was happy, but I still put her through a lot.”

When Steve turned his head Clint was staring at him. “I know that Phil would just want me to be happy, but I don’t know how to do that without feeling like I’m betraying him. How can I be happy when he’s just--gone?”

Steve thought about that for a seconds. “I’m glad that Peggy moved on. I wouldn’t have wanted her to be unhappy for 70 years while I was in the ice. She had a long, fulfilling life, just like we had planned. The only difference was that I wasn’t there. But maybe that was better too. Being Captain America isn’t ever going to go away, she deserved a life that she built, instead of one that was thrust on us.”

Clint was quiet for a minute. “Thanks, Steve,” he said quietly, reaching out and squeezing Steve’s hand, “That helps a lot.”

They laid there quietly for a few more minutes, still holding hands, both staring up at the ceiling thinking of the people they had lost. Finally, Clint pushed himself to his feet. “I’m gonna go shower, maybe try to sleep a few more hours.” 

Steve understood Clint needing to leave but he stayed where he was, thinking of Peggy, yes, but also thinking about Bucky and hating himself for it.

***

After their conversation in the gym Clint seemed lighter. There were still circles under his eyes but they were fading and he smiled more readily. Natasha, when she was around, hovered around Clint less.

The biggest change, however, was when Clint started cooking.

“I thought you just lived off pizza and take-out,” Steve commented as he watched Clint chop vegetables. Whatever he was making smelled delicious. 

“I used to, and I guess I fell back into the habit without Phil around to cook with. He taught me, and it was hard to cook with the memories, you know? But he’d also be appalled to know I was eating junk.”

“Bucky was that way for me,” Steve volunteered. “When we lived together he did all the cooking and he tried to make sure there were vegetables. During the War Peggy and I would both just forget to eat and he was always after both of us.”

Clint hummed in acknowledgement before pushing the cutting board over to Steve with a fresh onion on it. “Chop that,” he said, stirring whatever was in the pot.

“I haven’t cooked anything in a really long time,” Steve warned as he picked up the knife.

“No time like the present,” Clint declared. He paused for a moment then cleared his throat. “Anyway, chopping onions is easy. I’ll ease you in before giving you harder things.”

Steve started to cut the onion. Clint maintained a stream of easy chatter while they worked, taking the onion Steve had chopped and adding it to the pot. He continued to provide Steve with vegetables to cut for a salad as he added ingredients to the pot and stirred. Clint seemed different while he cooked, occasionally singing softly and swinging his hips as he danced absentmindedly. More than once Steve almost nicked his fingers while distracted by Clint’s dancing.

Before long they were sitting down at the island, large plates of pasta and salad in front of each of them. Steve took a bite and was surprised by how good it was. Clint talked happily as they ate. Steve picked up the dishes and started washing them in the sink.

“You know there’s a dishwasher right there, right?” Clint said.

Steve flushed slightly, “I’m not really used to it yet,” he admitted.

Clint didn’t make fun of him though, he just nodded like that made perfect sense and picked up a towel to start drying. One of the best parts of spending time with Clint, Steve had found, was the fact that he never judged him or made him feel uncomfortable.

***

Life in the Tower continued in the same vein. Tony was often busy with his company and inventing things in his lab. He showed up at random hours either covered in grease or dressed in a suit that probably cost more than Steve’s could understand. He would randomly declare movie nights and gather every team member he could to watch a variety of movies that he had decided were classics and Steve needed to watch.

Natasha was gone often too, but she seemed to be on missions for Shield, not that she ever discussed it. She would drop in at odd hours and relax while Clint painted her nails or rubbed her feet. She always had an almost imperceptible tension to her that would only go away when she saw Clint laughing or making ridiculous comments.

Bruce was around the Tower but he spent a lot of time in his own labs. When Tony dragged him to movie nights, or when he was making something in the communal kitchen he didn’t say much, seeming to prefer keeping to himself after spending so much time alone.

Steve understood but he found himself drawn to being around people instead of spending time alone. Clint seemed to like being around people and Steve found himself drawn to him. The two of them spent a large amount of their time together, walking around the city trying different food carts and restaurants, watching TV or sparring.

The more time they spent together, however, the more Steve worried that his feelings for Clint weren’t just friendly. Clint could make him laugh even when he didn’t want to and never judged him for not knowing something. 

But they had both recently lost their soulmates and Steve had grown up learning that you should only ever be in a relationship with your soulmate. So he was determined to keep his feelings to himself. Whatever he was feeling, it wasn’t worth destroying his friendship with Clint.

***

Steve was sitting in a chair in the common room sketching a picture of Clint, who was asleep on the couch, when he was surprised by Natasha dropping down onto the armrest. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at the drawing. Steve knew how protective she was of Clint and was worried for a moment until she began talking.

“You’ve been really good for him,” she started.

Steve glanced at Clint but he hadn’t moved. Then he noticed Clint’s hearing aids sitting on the coffee table. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said.

Natasha sighed, “I didn’t think he would recover from losing Phil and I didn’t know how to help him. I don’t have a soulmate,” she confided. Steve was surprised, it wasn’t unheard of for someone to not have a soulmate but it was rare. “But you’ve helped him. He’s sleeping better and actually taking care of himself.”

Natasha’s statement left Steve with more questions. “Why are you telling me this?”

“He’s been good for you too. Just because I’m not around a lot doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed.” That was probably true, but didn’t clear up any of Steve’s confusion. “People have more choices in their relationships now. Some people find their soulmates but don’t pursue a relationship with them. They choose who to have a relationship with. Just something to think about.” She walked over to Clint and scratched the top of this head gently. Clint pushed his head into her hand and mumbled incoherently but didn’t wake and then she was gone.

Drawing forgotten, Steve watched Clint sleep, thinking over what Natasha had said. He could only think of one reason she would have said that to him. She must have thought Steve should tell Clint about his feelings. It was no secret that Natasha had Clint’s best interests in mind at all times that she would do anything for him, so maybe it would be okay. Maybe Clint felt the same way. Steve squared his shoulders. He would tell Clint and deal with whatever fallout occurred.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, an unknown number on the screen. Very few people had his number and only one called from an unknown number. “Fury,” he greeted curtly.

“Rogers,” Fury growled, “I need you in D.C. for a mission. The briefing is in four hours.” Fury hung up before Steve could answer.

Four hours. That was just enough time if he left right away. He could always talk to Clint when he got back - the mission couldn’t be that big of a deal.

***

Clint was rooted to the couch, unable to take his eyes off the TV where shaky cell phone footage was showing Natasha and Steve fighting the fucking Winter Soldier. He knew Fury’d called them to DC for a mission but - what the fuck was even happening? Even if he got on a plane right now it would take an hour and a half to get to them; the fight would probably be over by then.

But what if it wasn’t?

Decision made, Clint hurried to his apartment, grabbing the still packed duffle bag containing his suit and weapons. He slung his bow over his shoulder and hurried out of his room. Shield’s New York headquarters should have a quinjet for him to take.

He was in such a hurry to leave that he ran right into Tony Stark in the Iron Man suit, bouncing off painfully and landing on the ground. “What the fuck, Tony?” he demanded.

The Iron Man faceplate slid up, revealing Tony’s suspicious face. “Where are you going in such a hurry, Legolas?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention? I need to get to Shield so I can get to DC.”

“You can’t go to Shield,” Tony stated. “They’re Hydra.”

That stopped Clint. He ran the words through his head again and they still didn’t make sense. “What?”

Tony sighed. “Natasha messaged us yesterday. Shield is Hydra, we can’t trust any of them.”

Clint paused. He hadn’t gotten a message from Natasha. Why hadn’t she sent him a message? Did she think _he_ was Hydra? Was she mad at him for recruiting her from one bad organization to another? Which of his friends -- 

“Are you listening to me?” Tony snapped.

“What?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I said, where is your phone?”

Clint felt around his various pockets. “I don’t know.”

“Jarvis?” Tony asked.

“Agent Barton’s cellular device is currently located in Bedford-Stuyvesant.” Javis announced.

“Why were you in Bed-Stuy?”

“Why are you tracking me?”

They stared at each other suspiciously for a few moments before Jarvis interrupted them. “It appears a fight has broken out at Shield’s New York headquarters between Hydra and Shield agents.”

They stared at each other for another tense moment before Clint sighed. “I’m not Hydra. You’re not Hydra. Let’s go kick some Hydra ass.”

***

By the time they had captured all of the Hydra agents at Shield, Clint was exhausted. So many people that he had trusted for years had turned out to be Hydra all along. While he still wanted to go and help Steve and Natasha, he _was_ the highest ranking Shield agent who they knew for certain wasn’t Hydra so he had to stay and take control of what was left of Shield. There were tons of agents spread around the globe on various missions and they needed to be brought home before the shit hit the fan. Clint, with help from Tony - and more importantly Javis - managed to contact all the agents and they were on their way home to be questioned about their loyalties.

When Clint had a moment to breathe he sent a coded message to Natasha letting her know he was okay but couldn’t leave. She, out of anyone, would understand.

***

Clint was finally asleep in his own bed when he was interrupted out of a deep sleep by a dip in the bed. He started to turn but caught a whiff of a familiar scent, Natasha’s shampoo. She snuck her arms around him from behind and snuggled in. He was tempted to sit up and ask her tons of questions but the pull of sleep was too strong.

When Clint woke again he was alone in his bed but his pillow still held a faint smell of Natasha’s shampoo. He stumbled to the communal kitchen where he saw Steve holding a coffee mug. Clint was overwhelmed by how relieved he was to see Steve up and moving around. Natasha had called and filled him in on the extent of Steve’s injuries once they knew they were out of danger.

Clint made a beeline for Steve, wrapping his arms around his middle in a hug. He wasn’t sure where the impulse had come from but he knew he needed to touch and make sure Steve was actually okay. Steve froze for a moment but relaxed quickly, putting down his coffee and returning the hug. They stood like that for probably too long, Clint’s body pressed against Steve’s, before Clint pulled back, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, turning away to prepare himself a cup of coffee so he could avoid making eye contact.

“I’m glad to see you, too. Tony filled Natasha and I in on what you had been doing. I’m glad that you were thinking of the agents in the field while Natasha and I brought down all their backup.”

Clint didn’t know what to do with that so he chose to ignore it for now - or maybe forever - and changed the subject. “Natasha said Bucky Barnes is the Winter Soldier? How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know for sure yet. He doesn’t really want to talk about it.”

“Understandable,” Clint started before the rest of the sentence sunk in. “Wait, you’ve talked to him? Where is he?”

“He’s here,” Steve replied, looking confused. “Where else would he be?”

“I don’t know!”

Steve looked ready to argue but he was interrupted by a quiet voice. “I told you it was a bad idea, Stevie.”

Clint’s head jerked around. The Winter Soldier was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Only, it was hard to think of him as the Winter Soldier when he was wearing what must have been Steve’s sweatpants, the ends pooled around his bare feet. His shirt was loose and his hair hung around his face.

The Winter Soldier, Barnes, moved to stand behind Steve but didn’t make a move to grab anything for himself. He looked longingly at the coffee pot. Clint couldn’t let anyone go without coffee so he pulled down another mug and filled it, pushing it towards Barnes along with milk and sugar. Barnes looked at him but didn’t say anything as he gingerly took it, slowly taking a sip as his stomach rumbled loudly.

Clint sighed and moved to pull a carton of eggs and a package of bacon out of the fridge. He set about frying bacon as he pushed the carton of eggs and a bowl toward Barnes. “Crack those eggs for me, yeah?” he asked as he started putting pieces of bread in the toaster.

Barnes glanced at Steve but when he just smiled softly he pulled the carton closer and gently cracked an egg against the side of the bowl. “How many?” he asked quietly.

“All of them, probably, if your metabolism is anything like Steve’s.”

Barnes didn’t answer but he kept cracking eggs. Clint gestured Steve over to the toaster and returned to the pan holding the bacon, flipping pieces. Barnes added milk, salt, and pepper to the eggs and stirred them before pushing the bowl back toward Clint, looking unsure of himself. Clint smiled brightly and thanked him before turning back to the bacon.

Clint still wasn’t sure about living with the former Winter Soldier, though the psychologist Shield had tried to make him talk to would probably say that had more to do with their similar experiences than actual worry about his safety. Watching Barnes look for directions while cooking broke through the rest of Clint’s reservations. Clint always was a sucker for a sad story and a pretty face.

It wasn’t long before the food was all plated and they were sitting down at the table to eat. Barnes, still looking unsure of himself, took a seat in front of one of the plates. When no one moved to take the plate away from him he dug in. Steve, Clint saw, was staring at Barnes as he ate. When he opened his mouth, probably to tell him to slow down, Clint kicked Steve in the shin. Steve jumped and when he looked to Clint to complain Clint just shook his head lightly.

Suddenly, something very important occurred to Clint. “We can have a shooting competition!” he exclaimed.

Barnes jumped at the loud declaration, eyes wide.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Clint?” Steve asked.

“Yes! I can finally prove that I’m the best shot in the world!”

Barnes gave him an odd look at that. “You realize I spent years as an assassin, right?”

Clint scoffed, “You’re not special. I’ve probably assassinated more people than you.”

Steve looked pained, “Is this really something we should be talking about over breakfast?” But Barnes ignored him.

“I never miss my mark.”

“Neither do I, babe.”

Barnes looked ready to argue more but Steve interrupted. “Guys, does this even matter?”

Barnes deflated some. “I guess not,” he muttered.

Clint was ready to push some more but he saw Natasha walking in out of the corner of his eye and got distracted. He made a mental note to bring it up again sometime when Barnes was alone.

***

Getting Barnes alone turned out to be harder than Clint had planned. He acted like Steve’s shadow, and while Clint still hung out with Steve it was different from before. Steve was always fussing over Barnes if he was there, or, if he wasn’t, talking about Barnes and his worries and concerns.

Clint tried not to take it personally, he would probably worry about Natasha too. It was still hard to convince himself that Steve wasn’t abandoning him for Barnes. Maybe if he could get Barnes out of his shell some Steve would back off and would want to talk about something else again.

It was time to take matters into his own hands.

Step 1: Get Steve out of the picture.

Natasha begrudgingly agreed to help out by convincing Steve to go with her to persuade Sam to join them in New York. Once Steve was gone Clint was going to be able to talk to Barnes on his own.

Step 2: Talk to Barnes.

Talking to Barnes was proving difficult. Without Steve around Barnes tended to stay locked up in his apartment. Luckily, Clint was resourceful.

New Step 2: Break into Barnes’ apartment.

Natasha would probably call it a stupid move but Clint had done stupider things for less. He found a vent in the hallway and pulled himself into it, closing the vent behind him out of habit. He crawled through, glancing through open vents to keep track of where he was.

When he found the apartment he was looking for he quietly opened the vent and dropped down. Congratulating himself on his perfect break in turned and jumped, heart rate spiking, as he saw Barnes leaning against the door frame, cleaning his nails with a knife, eyebrow raised.

“Barnes,” he gasped, “don’t do that! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Don’t stand in my own apartment while you break in?” Barnes asked.

Clint paused. “It sounds stupid when you say it that way,” he muttered.

Barnes sighed. “Why are you breaking into my apartment?”

“You won’t come out.”

“Did you try knocking?”

“...No.”

Barnes rolled his eyes. “Why are you trying to get me out?”

This was it. “So we can have our shooting competition! We need to see who the best is, once and for all!”

Barnes seemed to shrink in on himself. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Steve doesn’t want me to use any guns. He seems to think it’ll bring back bad memories or something. Or Hydra’s programming? He didn’t really say.”

Clint scoffed, “Steve worries too much. You’re just scared I’ll beat you. I get it, you’re probably out of practice and don’t want to embarrass yourself.”

Barnes looked unimpressed. “I know what you’re doing, you’re not that stealthy.”

Clint grinned. “Is it working?”

Barnes scowled. “Yes.”

“Great!” Clint exclaimed. “Let’s go!”

Barnes followed Clint down to the shooting range, even though Clint could see he still had his reservations. His eyes were wide as he took in the large selection of weapons along the wall.

Clint snickered to himself as he pulled a slingshot off the wall. “Want to start with something from your childhood?” he asked.

Barnes gave him a disbelieving look. “I’m not that old!” he protested.

Still laughing, Clint put the slingshot back where he had found it. “What do you want to use?” he asked.

Barnes looked over the selection carefully, choosing an old fashioned gun. He was quiet for a few minutes. “I remember this from the war,” he said softly. He walked over to the table and looked it over carefully before hefting it to his shoulder. “These.”

“Cool,” Clint declared, grabbing one for himself as well. “Rules are simple, we take turns shooting ten shots. Best score wins. You want to go first or second?”

“I’ll go second,” Barnes said.

Clint loaded the gun and shot, barely glancing at the target. He knew without looking it was a bullseye. He took the next nine shots in quick succession, knowing they were all perfect.

Barnes looked impressed despite himself but stepped up to his lane. He took a few more seconds to aim, then quickly shot ten bullseyes.

An hour later Clint was bored out of his mind. The competition had started out fun and gotten better as they both shot perfect round after perfect round but at this point it ridiculous.

“I’m bored,” Clint whined.

Barnes smirked over his shoulder. “You can always give up.”

Clint gasped dramatically. “Never!”

They continued shooting but after awhile even Barnes seemed to get bored. His stomach started to rumble and Clint took his chance. “We can call it a tie,” he offered. “I know a great pizza place, we can get some food, maybe play video games. I bet I could kick your ass at Mario Kart.”

Barnes looked like he wanted to argue but his stomach growled again. He sighed and set the gun down. “Fine, I guess I’ll accept your forfeit.”

“Finally,” Clint groaned, starting to clean his gun before stopping. “Wait, that wasn’t a forfeit! It’s a tie! We’ll pick back up again later when your stomach isn’t trying to eat itself.”

They cleaned the guns quickly then Clint led the way back to his apartment. “Want to go get the pizza or do you want it delivered?” he asked.

“Delivered,” Barnes decided.

“Great, I’ll order while you find something on TV.”

Clint called his favorite pizza delivery place while Barnes pulled up Netflix. He was still scrolling through the options when Clint hung up the phone. “What are we watching?” Clint asked.

Barnes hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said. “There’s a lot of options.”

“Yeah,” Clint agreed. “Want me to pick something?”

Barnes handed the remote over with a relieved look on his face. Clint quickly found the Great British Baking Show, starting at the beginning of a season. Barnes was quickly engrossed in the show. Clint tried to watch but he couldn’t stop himself from sneaking glances at Barnes instead. He had wanted to get Barnes out of his shell but hadn’t expected to enjoy himself so much.

Pizza was delivered and eaten with Barnes barely looking away from the show. At the end of the episode, however, he glanced over at Clint. “I was promised something called Mario Kart. I don’t know what it is but I bet I’ll beat you at that too.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “You didn’t beat me before, that was a tie.”

Barnes smirked and Clint sighed. “Fine.”

Clint explained the basics of Mario Kart while the game loaded, passing Barnes a controller. The first few rounds Barnes lost spectacularly, but before long he was fighting Clint for the top spot every race.

They played for hours, their races turning dirty as they pushed and elbowed each other on the couch while trying to knock each others character off the road. Eventually Clint could barely see the screen from yawning so much and even Barnes seemed to be drooping. The game ended when Clint’s character drove right off the track when Clint dozed off sitting up.

Clint was startled awake by Barnes’ laugh. He looked beautiful with his eyes lit up with joy. Clint was pretty sure he would do anything to see that smile of Barnes’ face more. “Looks like I win,” Barnes announced as his character crossed the finish line.

Clint wanted to argue, but he was tired. “No fair,” he mumbled anyway, before falling sideways on the couch, pulling his feet up, and grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch. It got caught on Barnes on the way down but he carefully disentangled himself and laid the blanket gently over Clnt.

Clint watched as Barnes made sure the TV was off before walking toward the door. “I had fun today, Bucky,” he mumbled, finding he actually meant it. “We should hang out more often.” He pulled his hearing aids out and fell asleep on the couch.

***

Steve returned but that didn’t stop Clint from inviting Bucky over for video games and shooting competitions. They slowly worked their way through the Great British Baking Show on Netflix. Clint also made it a point to pull Bucky into conversations when he was with both Steve and Bucky. Bucky slowly stopped looking to Steve for approval and joined in conversations and voiced his own opinions.

Bucky was passionately arguing with Clint about who was going home during that round of the Great British Baking Show when Clint caught the look on Steve’s face. Steve was watching Bucky, looking soft and fond and almost like he was--

Oh.

That made sense.

It totally made sense for Steve to be in love with Bucky. They had all that shared history and Steve had already shown that he would do anything for Bucky.

This was good. Steve and Bucky could be happy together.

But why did it feel like a lead balloon had just dropped in his stomach?

Clint tried to ignore it but he couldn’t quite figure out how. Every touch between Steve and Bucky suddenly had more meaning. Clint couldn’t look away as Bucky reached out to push Steve, laughing. Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand, not letting go. The feeling in Clint’s stomach spread to his chest as the episode continued until he was sure he was going to cry.

Once the episode ended Clint cleared his throat and excused himself. “I need to go.” he started, unsure of where the sentence was going to end, “ummm, go do something. I’ll be back later.” He left before either of them could say anything.

Clint hurried out of the building, unsure of where he was going but knowing that he couldn’t stay and watch them any longer.

***

After a few days of avoiding Steve and Bucky Clint convinced himself that he was back to normal. It made sense for Steve and Bucky to end up together. After everything they’d been through, Clint couldn’t begrudge them that.

It was a rainy evening and Clint didn’t feel like cooking so he had ordered pizza. He was waiting for the message from JARVIS telling him his pizza had arrived when he heard a knock at his apartment door.

Confused, Clint stood to open the door. Delivery people weren’t allowed on the residential floors.

However, when he opened the door Clint saw a dripping wet Bucky holding something small against his chest. He stood there staring for a moment until Bucky asked, “can I come in?”

Clint jumped back, opening the door further for Bucky to come inside, still cradling something. “I’ll get you some towels,” he said. “Be right back.”

When Clint returned to the kitchen he found Bucky speaking quietly to whatever he was holding, gently reassuring it. Clint’s chest felt tight. Bucky turned to Clint and showed him a tiny white kitten held carefully in his hands. It cried plaintively and Bucky shushed it gently.

Clint dropped all the towels but one on the counter, spreading it in his hands and accepting the kitten gingerly. He dried it while Bucky grabbed towels for himself, drying his hair quickly. Once Bucky was no longer dripping he took the kitten back.

“Where’d you get a kitten, Bucky?” Clint asked.

“I went for a walk and it started to rain, so I was coming back when I heard it crying from an alley. There wasn’t anyone around so I picked it up. You like animals, right? You can tell me if it’s okay?”

Clint wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings trying to escape his chest so he pushed them back down. “I’m sure it’ll be fine for tonight, sweetheart. Tomorrow we can find a vet to check it out. How’s that sound?”

Bucky still looked unsure but the kitten had apparently gotten over its anger at being wet and was trying to jump out of his arms. Bucky let it down gently and watched as the kitten immediately started attacking his shoelaces.

Clint was pretty sure the kitten was the best thing he had ever seen until he glanced up at Bucky’s face. He was gazing down at the kitten, a soft smile on his face.

Oh shit, the butterflies in his stomach were back full force.

Clint cleared his throat. “What are you going to name it?”

Bucky didn’t even glance away from the kitten. “Name it?”

“Yeah, you need to name your kitten.”

Bucky finally looked up at Clint, wonder on his face. “I can keep it?”

“What else were you going to do with it?” Clint asked.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to keep it.” Bucky was silent for a moment before declaring, “Alpine.”

“Alpine?”

Bucky nodded decisively. “Alpine.”

He squatted down to play with Alpine, who batted at his long hair. Bucky laughed softly as he gently disentangled Alpine’s paw from his hair.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

Clint knew this feeling.

He didn’t think he would feel this way again.

Clint was in love with Bucky Barnes.

Fuck.

***

Bucky wandered into Steve’s apartment, Alpine digging pinprick claws in as he rode on Bucky’s shoulder. The cat had quickly become a common sight around the Tower, often following Bucky around and demanding rides. Alpine seemed disinterested in anyone else, though he did deign to let Natasha pet him once.

Bucky set Alpine down on the couch gently before dropping down on it. Steve walked in from the bedroom, frowning at Alpine kneading the couch cushions.

Whatever, it wasn’t like he was allergic anymore.

“Clint’s being weird,” Bucky announced.

Steve’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“He’s avoiding me,” Bucky explained. “I asked if he wanted to play video games and he told me he was busy. And Alpine misses him.”

“Your demon cat does not miss Clint,” Steve said, “It doesn’t even like anyone.” Steve started to sit on the couch but Alpine hissed at him. He moved to a chair instead. “Maybe Clint really is busy.”

“I’m pretty sure he was just watching Dog Cops alone in his apartment. That’s not busy.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. “I think it’s my fault.”

“Why?” Bucky questioned, “What did you do?”

“I was considering asking him out before we found out about you,” Steve explained, eyes downcast. “Natasha told me I should, and I was going to, but then everything happened with Hydra. Maybe Natasha told him?”

Bucky thought for a minute, petting Alpine absentmindedly. “But that doesn’t explain why he’s avoiding me, he should just be avoiding you. Is he avoiding you?”

“I don’t know,” Steve explained. “Things have been weird between us for awhile."

Bucky considered pushing for more information but Steve seemed to actually be upset.

“I’m going to figure this out,” Bucky declared.

“Buck, no,” Steve protested, but Bucky wasn’t listening. Clint had done so much to help him and he was going to help him back. If Clint and Steve had a chance of being happy together they should take it.

***

Bucky hadn’t made plans in a long time, normally he was just told what plans to follow. So first he was going to talk to Natasha.

Natasha was...not actually helpful. Bucky explained the issue but all Natasha did was roll her eyes and mutter about ‘helpless boys’ before walking away.

Time to come up with his own plan, then. Steve had admitted to having feelings for Clint, Bucky should probably make sure Clint had feelings for Steve before trying to get them together. Time to take a page out of Clint’s book.

***

Bucky was lounging on Clint’s couch, Alpine purring on his chest when Clint woke up the next morning. By the time Clint actually noticed him Bucky was seriously concerned about Clint’s previous life as a spy and assassin.

Clint jumped when he finally saw Bucky, somehow not spilling his coffee.

“Christ, Bucky, what are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Alpine misses you,” Bucky said.

Clint shot a look at Alpine, who was watching Clint but gave no indication that he wanted to leave his spot on Bucky’s chest. “Yeah, he seems real torn up about it,” he remarked dryly.

Bucky moved Alpine to his lap and sat up. “Okay, maybe I missed you. We haven’t hung out in days.”

Bucky watched as Clint made himself busy topping off his coffee. Something was definitely going on, now just to get to the bottom of it.

“Why haven’t we hung out in days?”

Clint sighed. “It’s complicated Bucky.”

“Can I help with it?”

“Nothing’s going to come from it Bucky, it doesn’t matter.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “You’re being weird, what’s happening?”

“Don’t worry about it babe,” Clint said, eyes darting nervously “let’s hang out. What do you want to do today?”

Bucky pretended to think about it, letting Clint’s subject change slide. “I want to talk about you.”

Clint sighed but sat on the couch. “What do you want to know?”

“What happened to your soulmate?”

Clint winced, “You’re really not pulling the punches today, are you? He died during the attack on New York.”

“Around the same time as Peggy then,” Bucky prodded.

“Yeah,” Clint agreed, “that’s part of what Steve and I bonded over.”

“But now things are weird,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, I guess they are. But it’s my fault, Bucky, I’ll get over it.”

Bucky was quiet for a few minutes. He could probably push a little more before Clint got upset. “What happened?”

Clint sighed. “I fell for someone who’s in love with someone else. It’s fine, I want them to be happy, but I just need some time to get over it.”

Clint _was_ in love with Steve! But wait, who else would Steve be in love with? Maybe he should talk to Steve again.

Clint changed the subject, “Do you want some breakfast?”

“Sure,” Bucky agreed, letting him deflect for now. 

Steve and Clint had both done so much for him and he just wanted them to be happy, even if that meant them being together. He would talk to Steve again and move on from there.

***

Bucky was considering how to bring Clint up to Steve again without upsetting him when Natasha walked by. She sat beside him, folding her feet underneath her on the couch. “You look like you’re thinking hard, Bucky, what’s wrong?” she asked.

Bucky sighed. “Steve told me he almost asked Clint out but didn’t because of Hydra. And I talked to Clint and he said he’s in love with someone who is in love with someone else, that has to be Steve, right? But who else would Steve be in love with?”

Natasha made a noncommittal noise.

“They would make each other happy but I don’t know how to bring it up to them,” he continued.

Natasha turned to fully face Bucky. “How would you feel if Steve and Clint got together?” she asked. “You spend a lot of time with both of them.”

Bucky thought it over. He would be happy that Steve and Clint were both happy but there was a small part of him that felt lonely. But it’s not like they would abandon him for each other, he knew that.

So why would he be lonely?

He thought about Clint’s bright grins and Steve’s deep laugh. If they were together then those things would be just for them and Bucky wouldn’t get to see them anymore.

Would Steve hug him less if he was dating Clint?

Would Clint still call him babe and sweetheart?

Why did he care?

Wait, why _did_ he care?

The only reason he would care about Steve’s hugs and Clint’s smiles and the pet names was if he was in love too.

But who was he in love with?

Natasha was still watching him patiently. She wouldn’t judge him for not knowing, right?

“How do I,” he stopped, tried again. “Can I like both of them?” he asked.

Natasha smiled gently. “Yes, Bucky, you can like both of them.”

Bucky spent the next several hours with Natasha, talking about different kinds of relationships and thinking about what kind of relationship, if any, he wanted with Steve and Clint. By the time they were done he understood a lot more about modern dating but still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next.

***

Bucky found Clint cooking alone in the communal kitchen a few days later.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Clint asked as he smiled at Bucky.

Bucky smiled back. “I want to talk to you about Steve,” he said.

Clint glanced at him, “Sure, what about Steve?”

It was like ripping off a band-aid. “I think you’re in love with him.”

Clint glanced at Bucky oddly. “I’m not in love with Steve.”

“Sure you are,” Bucky argued. “You always sit by him on the couch and you stare at his ass when he leaves the room.”

“Your asshole cat doesn’t let anyone sit near you,” Clint argued back, “I have to sit by Steve. And have you seen his ass? It’d be a crime to not look.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re in love with Steve, just admit it!”

“There’s nothing to admit,” Clint said, but he wouldn’t look Bucky in the eyes.

“You’re hiding something,” Bucky argued, “what else could it be?

“I’m not in love with Steve, you idiot,” Clint practically yelled, “I’m in love with you!”

There was a shocked silence while Bucky processed what Clint had said.

“You love me?” Bucky asked quietly.

Clint sighed, “I didn’t really mean to blurt that out, but yes Bucky, I love you. But I know you and Steve are a thing so I’m not going to butt in.”

Bucky felt his eyebrows furrow. “Steve and I aren’t in a relationship.”

Clint’s eyebrows rose, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s in love with you.”

Bucky was still confused. “Steve’s in love with you.”

Clint scoffed. “No he’s not.”

Bucky was ready to hit his head against the wall. “He told me he was going to ask you out before he found me. And then he didn’t, because he’s a self-sacrificing punk. But now you know, so you can ask him out because you’re in love with him too.”

“Bucky,” Clint started, but Bucky wasn’t listening anymore.

“You literally light up when he enters a room, Clint. And you hang on every word he says and laugh at his jokes even when they’re not fucking funny. But mostly, you knew you were in love with me but you weren’t going to say anything because you didn’t want to hurt Steve.”

Clint was quiet, “Holy shit, you’re right. How did I not know I was in love with him?” he asked. Why did Bucky even like this guy?

“Because you’re an idiot.”

“Hey!”

“By the way,” Bucky said, “I love you too.” Clint’s blinding grin was beautiful and Bucky couldn’t resist kissing him.  
***

Bucky walked in to Steve’s room, Clint close behind him. “We need to talk,” he announced.

Steve set his sketchbook down, “Sure, Bucky, what do you want to talk about?”

“You’re in love with Clint,” Bucky said, trying to sound confident. Steve looked to Clint quickly before turning his attention back to Bucky, cheeks turning slightly pink. “Don’t worry, I already told him. And he said that you’re in love with me.” He hoped he didn’t sound as uncertain as he felt.

Steve sighed, “I wasn’t going to say anything, it wouldn’t be fair to choose between you.”

“You know, you don’t actually have to choose,” Clint put in.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, sounding confused. Bucky didn’t blame him; even after talking to Natasha he still wasn’t sure he knew enough to make a decision.

“Well,” Clint explained, “there are plenty of people in healthy polyamorous relationships. There’s all sorts of different relationships, but in our case we could all three be in a relationship with each other.”

“How would that work?” Bucky asked. He didn’t want to get his hopes up but Clint made it sound like they could all be together. That was what he wanted, right?

Clint sighed, “Lots and lots of talking. But, we know that we all like each other, right? And we all kept it to ourselves because we didn’t want to hurt anyone, which wasn’t going great for any of us. We could try all being in a relationship together.”

They were all quiet for a moment, thinking it over. Finally Steve broke the silence. “What about our soulmates? What would Peggy think?”

Bucky felt a pang of loss, but he knew how to answer Steve. “Peggy would want you to be happy,” he said, “even if that meant with someone else. I didn’t ever meet my soulmate but I hope they would want me to be happy too, just like I hope they met someone and lived a happy life.”

Steve nodded slowly, “I think I want to try. What do you guys think?”

Bucky grinned, “I want to do it, what about you Clint?”

Clint smiled slowly, “I want to be in a relationship with you guys, if you’ll have me.”  
***

Clint smiled as he heard the apartment door open followed by the sound of bickering, Steve and Bucky returning from their morning run. He flipped a pancake as they walked into the kitchen, Bucky pressing a kiss to Clint’s cheek on his way to the fridge to pull out the orange juice. Steve hugged him from behind while Clint complained about sweat and super soldier body odor contaminating his clothes.

Steve laughed as he walked away, stripping off his shirt as he walked toward the bedroom, followed by Bucky’s wolf whistle.

Clint still missed Phil but he knew he would want him to move on. He didn’t think he could ever be this happy without his soulmate but Steve and Bucky proved him wrong every day.

Life, Clint decided, was pretty great.

**Author's Note:**

> I am on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/loonyloopylisa).


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